At 17, after deciding to study computers, I was accepted into Salahaddin University as a software engineer. It felt like a door had opened, a chance to rebuild. In the early years, I carried both studies and family on my back. I spent time serving my grandmother and staying close to her, even if it meant sacrifices.
College itself didn’t meet the image I had built in my head. The classes and system weren’t what I expected, so I didn’t feel deeply connected to the academic side. Instead, I leaned on the knowledge I had gathered on my own. At 19, I landed my first programming job. That step gave me a sense of independence, but the fight inside me continued. My mind still glitched, and I kept searching for ways to fix it.
I tried many things: knowing myself more honestly, praying to God, seeking treatment, rejecting self-imposed thoughts, staying away from toxic people, learning from successful ones, reading, and watching leaders closely. Each step added a piece. At 21, when I graduated as a software engineer in 2020–2021, despite all the internal battles, I ranked among the best in my college.
That same year I entered a programming competition in Iraq. I created a project that generated music with artificial intelligence, and I was one of the winners. During college I also attempted to start a tech organization and later a company, but both failed. I switched through several projects and experiments, trying to go deeper. These failures didn’t stop me; they became paths I needed to walk.
Through all this, I shifted from being withdrawn to being social. I built healthy relationships, gained confidence, and started speaking publicly. I was interviewed by well-known channels, met influential people, and worked in leadership roles running technology departments for large companies in the region. Still, I don’t count these as final successes. They are just steps, fragments of a bigger search.
What I’ve done so far is not the destination. It is the process of shaping myself, finding livelihood, building a spiritual foundation, and preparing for the bigger picture of my life. I know I haven’t discovered it fully yet. The search is still alive. And I’ve come to believe something else: everyone carries some kind of mental struggle, each with its own weight and percentage. What matters most is not hiding it, but learning how to face it, treat it, and even turn it into something that brings growth.